Flaming Prune Dessert Adventure

The list of things that Americans fear gets longer by the moment. If you scroll pretty far down, you’ll probably find prunes.

And it’s no wonder, given our unpleasant associations with brown juice usually consumed as a desperate measure. The attempt to rebrand them as dried plums didn’t do much, either.

Living in France changed my perspective, though. Prunes showed up there in luxurious full-fat yogurt, a true gourmandise. Those tiny packs became a favorite, second only to a local bakery’s buttery raisin and chocolate chip pastries.

Recently I searched for prune dessert recipes, hoping we’d made progress stateside. Disappointingly, most were for fibrous bars more healthful than indulgent. Then I spotted one that called for dousing prunes in brandy, setting them on fire, and baking them in custard. Hell yes.

Bon Appétit’s recipe for the dessert, called far Breton, had racked up 4.9 out of 5 stars from nearly two dozen reviewers. I noticed that the ingredients and steps had some overlap with clafoutis (or clafouti, depending on who you’re asking). Digging around a little bit, it seems that “far” comes from farine or wheat flour. According to one take on the dessert’s history, it started as a savory dish in the 1700s. A sweet version with brandy and dried fruit apparently gained popularity in the 1800s, especially among fishermen who consumed it to help ward off scurvy. Yarrr!

Sometimes referred to as a textured flan, far Breton is apparently best when it’s still warm, although the Bon Appétit instructions say to cool the whole thing completely after baking. Based on my experience with clafoutis, I went for a cold custard effect. Plus, I’d finished baking the thing so late at night that my choices were to either leave it on the counter overnight or put it in the fridge.

Looking at other far Breton recipes now, this one certainly took the longest. Where most just say to blend the custard ingredients together right before baking, Bon Appétit called for refrigerating the batter at least three hours. The prunes and raisins also took a while to prepare and the bake ended up being a full hour. Then there was the cool-down period at the end that I mostly skipped.

But I did enjoy dousing the fruit with Metaxa and setting it on fire. Unlike the saganaki fireball (opa!), these blue flames were low and persistent. They reminded me of dinner parties when I was little: We’d turn off the dining room light and Mom would carry in her homemade flaming cherries jubilee. Even though I have a much greater appreciation for brandied cherries as an adult, that experience was still exciting.

We had the far Breton for breakfast and found that the creamy custard matched well with the flavorful prunes and raisins. Some recipes call for rum instead of brandy, which I bet would taste quite good. Another alternative I’ve come across is using dates or other dried fruit in place of the prunes. Where’s the fearless adventure in that?

Far Breton
Adapted from Bon Appétit

Makes 8 servings

2 C. whole milk
3 large eggs
½ C. white sugar
5 Tbsp. unsalted butter plus extra for the pan
¼ tsp. vanilla extract
⅛ tsp. salt
¾ C. flour plus extra for the pan
6 oz. pitted prunes
⅓ C. raisins
½ C. water
¼ C. rum or brandy (like Metaxa)
Powdered sugar to serve

Equipment: Blender, medium metal saucepan, long match or candle lighter, 8-inch round metal cake pan with 2-inch sides, parchment round, baking sheet, cooling rack, large flat plate or cake lifter, serving platter, small sifter.

Melt the butter and allow it to cool slightly. Add the milk, eggs, sugar, salt, vanilla, and melted butter to the jar of a full-sized blender jar, cover, and mix on medium-high for 1 full minute. Measure out the flour and add that to the blender jar. Cover and pulse slightly until the mixture is fully blended.

Put the jar in the refrigerator for at least 3 hours. (Original recipe says you can leave it refrigerated “up to 1 day.”)

When you’re ready to begin baking, preheat the oven to 375°F.

Measure out the prunes, raisins, ½ C. water, and ¼ C. brandy or rum. Add the fruit and water to a medium metal saucepan. Start at medium heat and then lower slightly. Cook the fruit, stirring occasionally, for 8 to 10 minutes or until the water has mostly nearly all evaporated and the fruit seems softened.

Pour the alcohol into the pan and use a long match or candle lighter to ignite it. Allow the alcohol to burn off completely, carefully shaking the pan a couple times to help this process along. You’ll know it’s time when all the blue flames have disappeared. Set the pan aside to cool slightly.

Butter the interior of an 8-inch round metal cake pan with 2-inch sides. Place a parchment round in the bottom. Butter the round. Add a little bit of flour and tip the pan around to completely coat the interior. Knock excess flour out into the sink.

Place the prepared pan on a baking sheet. Pour the batter into the pan. Then, using a spoon, distribute the prunes and raisins evenly across the top. They will sink to the bottom. That’s normal.

Put the baking sheet with the full cake pan in the oven and bake for 1 hour, or until a knife poked into the middle comes out clean. Avoid testing too early or you’ll end up with multiple indentations. The top will be deep brown and puffy when it’s fully baked.

Set the baked far Breton on a rack to cool. The top will sink down as it cools. Also normal.

Once it’s cooled enough so you can handle the pan, you can either cover and refrigerate the dessert or serve it warm.

To serve, run a knife around the edge to loosen it. Set a flat plate or cake lifter over the top and turn the dessert out onto that. Remove the parchment paper and sift some powdered sugar on the bottom side.

Place your serving platter over the dessert and flip it again. It should be right side up now. Sift powdered sugar over the top. Slice into wedges.

Cover and refrigerate any leftovers.